Tonight, Thus Spake Thujonu

whenever things are quiet im never trying to sleep this is one of my better days thats the strange part
pride gets me to the bottom of the well when im too tall to peer into the edge
the water is cold and over flows the ankles int othe shoe when the walls are too wet to climb
eugene is broken down and dead where the freaks with warrants come to hide from competant cops
nothing is what it seems because everyone is fony fake tweaker drunk artist socialite poser trying to run from something
everyones poor but everyone drinks to get rich
i cam all this way and just want to leave because a wandering soul has no home and no one to place the food in the pot in his home so he wonders until he is dead and cold counting ties in railroad tracks thousands of miles away from birthland
the girls are broken down and dirty looking except the pretty ones who all have boys or babies and the sluts that look to fuck even though they kinda creep you out and run shivers down the eternal spine within the mind when they slide up to the bar looking for covnersation
the wander cant pass a mirror without thinking is this what i was expecting is this why i came
leaving behind a niche carbed for onself already to stand on his own two legs destined to succeed even though everyday is a slow failure slightly worse than the one before it how can he carry on
darkness falls with the cold and smoke exhaled in puffs drag into the night lonesome and dark like winos spreading their throats open to sing into the night a hand grasping a cold large can of booze to sleep keep them warm as they sleeep meanwhile less than a miles distance a young man the wander downs warm whiskey and coffee to keep him warm as he stays up all night because sleep is just so awful when its the only option as everything else just seems not so much fun anymore
everyones going to their place and i think maybe this is harder than it looks which is myself stumbling over myself as the eternal self is drowned in eternal drink to numb the realization
beautiful people in my eyes like lovely explosions in the sky strong like the pull from the moon help pick me up from this devestation and winters cold nights and the springish days when i walk to work under the storm chasing me and everything underneath my restless complacency
restricted to wander tell me i wont always be so down but lies and deception to the self are more laughable than those to other sentients which arent in the know
the true meaning of all this is to grow but without refrence its just repetitive dreaming
dancing with myself cutting down the sides and keeping the middle sticky rides i wish youd know me so you could love me and show me the inside of your soul but because of you all that you inspire you know that theres nothing like heaven when i open my eyes and see the outside of your head from the inside of my head i cant help but wonder at those mountains look down upon this town of the living dead what is beyond why not drive through nebraska all day every day my least favorite state so far even pennslyvania had its upsides get me down to the desert where the walls are dry and the sky is red and i cant sit in peace and quiet until i am dead

Thus Spake Thujonu